April 2014

April 30, 2014

In his twenty-three seasons in the major leagues, Brooks Robinson made enough of an impact to get into the Baseball Hall of Fame on the first ballot. His days on the playing field were best characterized by umpire Ed Hurley’s famous statement, “He plays third base like he came down from a higher league.” From 1955 to 1977, Robinson set a new standard for aggressive infield play. He played his entire career with the Baltimore Orioles, and during his years there the franchise enjoyed four World Series appearances, winning the world championship in 1966 and 1970.

On April 30, Robinson visited the National Portrait Gallery for a reception and a conversation with a few friends and some members of the museum staff. Robinson is a man who enjoyed a spectacular career, and who loves to share the stories and the lessons of the sport he played. “Follow your dream,” he responded to museum director Kim Sajet’s question, “What advice would you give young people today?”

Brooks Robinson and Kim Sajet, director of the National Portrait Gallery. Photograph by Benjamin Bloom, National Portrait Gallery

After noting that history was his favorite subject in school, Robinson said, “In eighth grade, I wrote a paper on what I wanted to be—I wanted to be a baseball player. That was my dream. I tell kids, ‘If you want to do something, set your mind to it. There will be obstacles, but you have to follow your dream.’” He added, “Education is really important, though.” He talked about the difficulty of returning to his baseball career after compulsory time in the military in the late 1950s, stating, “I figured if I didn’t go out there and make it happen, I wouldn’t get back to Baltimore.”

If one were to say that Robinson was the greatest defensive third baseman, it would be difficult to argue. Known as the “Human Vacuum Cleaner,” Robinson was tough to get a ball past. His career fielding percentage was .971, meaning that nineteen out of twenty times when Robinson was involved in a play, the batter was going to be put out.

Although statistically Robinson is the third-greatest defensive third baseman of all time, the statistical fielding percentage hides the fact that Robinson played seven seasons longer than the leader in this category, Placido Polanco, and ten seasons longer than the second player on the list, Mike Lowell. Also, to further make the case that Robinson was the verybest defensive third baseman of all time, Robinson started over two thousand more games at third base than Polanco; Polanco spent his major league years as a utility infielder, playing hundreds of games at second base or shortstop. Robinson owned third base for the Orioles for more than two decades.

Brooks Robinson and Sid Hart, historian emeritus at the National Portrait Gallery. Photograph by Benjamin Bloom, National Portrait Gallery

At the plate, Robinson carried his weight as well. In 1964, on his way to becoming the American League’s most valuable player, Robinson spanked in 118 runs and hit 28 home runs. He hit 268 home runs over his career and batted in a total of 1,357 runs during that span; he also collected 2,848 hits.

Robinson’s peak years were from 1960 to 1975, during which time he won sixteen Gold Glove Awards and was voted onto the American League all-star team fifteen times. In the 1970 World Series against the Cincinnati Reds, Robinson was everywhere. In the field, he picked up hard-hit balls beyond mortal range, and at the plate, he sizzled. In the first game of the series, he hit the winning home run and over the course of the Orioles’ 4–1 victory over the Reds, Robinson hit .429. He was named the series’ most valuable player. Gordon Beard, sportswriter for the Baltimore Sun, said, “Brooks Robinson never asked anyone to name a candy bar after him. In Baltimore, people named their children after him.”

--Warren Perry, Catalog of American Portraits, National Portrait Gallery

The military career of General George Gordon Meade (1815–1872) began when he was admitted into West Point at the age of fifteen. He was not initially interested in joining the army, and he worked as a surveyor while attending school and following his one-year military assignment. He eventually applied for reinstatement in order to work with the military engineers. Initially appointed second lieutenant of topographical engineers in 1842, he continuously rose in position. Meade was eventually placed in command of the Army of the Potomac on June 28, 1863.

The most criticized moment in Meade’s career came during the Battle of Gettysburg, July 1–3, 1863. Although his defensive maneuvers eventually proved victorious against General Lee’s army, he was initially criticized for not following up on the victory with an aggressive pursuit of the retreating Confederates, thus allowing Lee’s army to escape. Writing to his wife on July 16, Meade responded to these allegations:

My army (men and animals) is exhausted; it wants rest and reorganization; it has been greatly reduced and weakened by recent operations, and no reinforcements of any practical value have been sent. Yet, in the face of all these facts, well known to them, I am urged, pushed and spurred to attempting to pursue and destroy an army nearly equal to my own.

Meade would outlast the criticism, and when Ulysses Grant took command of all Union armies in March 1864, Meade would serve under him. From May 5 to 6, 1864, the first phase of a large Union offensive against the Confederate capital at Richmond began with fighting at the Wilderness.

This was followed by continued fighting in Spotsylvania County, Virginia, from May 8 through 21, which proved devastating for both sides. As Bruce Catton writes, “If there could be a climax to a battle of this kind it came on May 12 . . . when Grant and Meade ordered a frontal assault on a bulging crescent of Confederate trenches and brought on one of the most terrible fights of the entire war.”

While both sides faced heavy losses after the first battle, it marked the beginning of a long but successful Union campaign. As Meade concluded in a letter of May 13, 1864,

Our losses have been frightful. . . . Those of the enemy fully as great. Our work is not over, but we have the prestige of success, which is everything, and I trust our final success will be assured.

Throughout his career, Meade faced criticism from the press, and his role in the war was largely overshadowed by of Ulysses S. Grant’s victories. However, Meade proved himself to be an honest and relentless leader who, in forcing Lee to retreat and continuing to hold the offensive during the Battle of the Wilderness and Spotsylvania, created a stand for the Union’s victory in the Civil War.

Following the war, Meade continued to serve in the army. He helped foil a planned invasion into Canada by the American Fenian Society in 1866. The Fenians were an American branch of the Irish Fenian Society, which strove for Ireland’s independence from England. Under instruction from Lieutenant General Grant, Meade was able to protect the border at Eastport, Maine. Ultimately, at the end of that same year he commanded the Military Division of the Atlantic in Philadelphia, and it was at this position in Philadelphia that he died of pneumonia on November 6, 1872.

April 18, 2014

"Face Value: Portraiture in the Age of Abstraction" is open through January 11, 2015

The mid-twentieth century was a ground-breaking period in the genre of portraiture. Prior to 1945, portraiture was generally small scale, focused on a realistically painted, recognizable likeness that probed personality. After 1945, portraiture took on the unrest of the world; two global wars and the development of the atomic bomb gave writers, musicians, and artists a modern set of lenses through which to view their environments. In addition Abstract Expressionism offered new tools for making a picture. The old traditions were eschewed and a less formal, more exploratory dynamic took their place.

With the opening of "Face Value: Portraiture in the Age of Abstraction," the National Portrait Gallery celebrates that new expression of portraiture by American artists from 1945 to 1975. National Portrait Gallery director Kim Sajet commented, “It’s a fabulous, brilliant show; it’s wonderful for the Portrait Gallery. It shows our continuing commitment to modern art and biography.”

"Face Value" was team-curated by National Portrait Gallery senior curator of prints and drawings Wendy Wick Reaves, chief curator Brandon Fortune and senior historian David Ward. The show contains fifty-five works by forty-five artists, including portraits from the Portrait Gallery’s collection as well as other major American museums and private collections. “These artists,” notes Reaves, “are all learning about abstraction; they are learning those lessons and applying them to portraiture.”

Works like Elaine de Kooning’s Self Portrait (1946) and David Parks’ Woman with Red Mouth (1954-55) reflect a stripping-away of the fixed and rigid styles of older works and a much looser composition. Jane Freilicher’s Frank O’Hara portrays a mostly featureless sitter, though the work captures the complex nature of its subject. Ward states in his catalog essay of the piece, “Frank O’Hara was the charismatic figure in New York City’s culture . . . His friend Freilicher painted an especially sensitive series of sketches and paintings of him, including the one shown here.” Other works such as Red Grooms’ Loft on 26th Street are more figurative, but contain sitters portrayed in a carnivalesque, high animation.

"Face Value" captures those decades in which portraiture fought to remain relevant. As the curatorial team comments in the catalog preface, the purpose of the exhibition is “to gather the disparate threads of midcentury portraiture to weave together a vital but overlooked chapter in the history of this enduring art form.”

--Warren Perry, Catalog of American Portraits, National Portrait Gallery

April 08, 2014

Attention patrons of the arts, friends of the National Portrait Gallery, art history buffs, and anyone who has ever take a selfie: this Thursday marks the National Portrait Gallery’s monthly Pop Quiz. This month we feature twenty-one self-portraits from the Portrait Gallery’s collection, and each question will correspond to one of the artists of those self-portraits.

While self-representation has always had a place in the creation of art, it wasn’t until the Renaissance that self-portraits became common. Since then, self-portraits have held a certain appeal to viewers, giving face to the mysterious and often elusive figure of the artist. Artists such as Mary Cassatt, Chuck Close, and Elaine de Kooning are well known for creating self-portraits that play with the notion of identity.

The Museum Café will offer snacks and beverages for purchase, and prizes will be distributed to the team with the highest score. Put that Art History 101 knowledge to the test, and make some new friends in the process!

Here is a sneak peek for this month’s bonus question, worth ten points:

Alexander Calder is noted for renewing a childlike sense of play juxtaposed against profound mechanical ingenuity in his sculptures. He is known primarily for his metalwork, which ranges from fine wire portraits to massive kinetic art works. What did he call this kind of artwork?

April 07, 2014

Maya Angelou at the National Portrait Gallery. Photo by Paul Morigi/AP for the National Portrait Gallery.

In collaboration with Smithsonian colleagues from the National Museum of African Art, the National Portrait Gallery hosted an event on Saturday, April 5, in which both museums paid tribute to Maya Angelou, one of the most revered poets in the United States. Angelou, whose eighty-sixth birthday was April 4—the day before—commented on what she considered was one of her great achievements over eight decades—patience. “You can only have patience if you have courage,” she stated, adding that “Reverend [Martin Luther] King had great patience.”

During the event at the McEvoy Auditorium in the Donald W. Reynolds Center, a portrait of Angelou by Atlanta-based artist Ross Rossin was unveiled. Assisting Portrait Gallery director Kim Sajet and NMAfA director Johnnetta Cole in the unveiling was Angelou’s friend and protégé Oprah Winfrey. Guests in attendance included actress Cicely Tyson, activist Julian Bond, and former ambassador Andrew Young.

Maya Angelou being interviewed by Johnnetta Cole. Photo by Paul Morigi/AP for the National Portrait Gallery.

Angelou discussed the works and humanity of Martin Luther King at length; King, who was killed on Angelou’s fortieth birthday, was a great friend of the author and a colleague in the fight for civil rights. Of him she also noted, “People can only do what they know to do. Reverend King did what he knew to do. He was compassionate; he was kind.” Angelou spoke at length on civil rights, and her discussion culminated in the observation that the fight for rights includes work on behalf of all protected classes (protected class is the legal term used to describe a group of people who are protected from discrimination by federal law), regardless of gender, race, religion, and individuals with physical and mental challenges. “We need more people involved in the civil rights movement—civil rights, not just race rights.”

As she notes in her seminal memoir, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Angelou understood from a young age the difficulties of being an African American in the United States of the 1930s: “If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of her displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat.” Themes of displacement and pain are not uncommon in African American literature, and those are subjects of much of Angelou’s discourse. Her work is poignant, complex, and important.

Oprah Winfrey and Kim Sajet, director of the National Portrait Gallery, unveiling the portrait of Maya Angelou. Photo by Warren Perry, National Portrait Gallery. .

Angelou now enjoys the privileged status of national literary treasure. In 1993 she became the first poet since Robert Frost to read at a presidential inauguration. Immediately after President Bill Clinton took the oath of office on January 20, she read “On the Pulse of Morning,” a work she wrote for the occasion. In that work, Angelou expresses hope overcoming horrors, and inclusion overcoming the abject past of marginalization, slavery, and othering:

You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede,

The German, the Eskimo, the Scot,

The Italian, the Hungarian, the Pole,

You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought,

Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare,

Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am that Tree planted by the River,

Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree,

I am yours—your passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need

For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,

Cannot be unlived, but if faced

With courage, need not be lived again.

Angelou’s passions span many disciplines; she has been nominated for a Tony and an Emmy, and in 2013 she received the National Book Foundation’s Literarian Award. She has also received dozens of honorary degrees, and in 2011 President Barack Obama rewarded Angelou’s lifetime of achievement with the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

—Warren Perry, Catalog of American Portraits, National Portrait Gallery

April 02, 2014

It is difficult to find a part of the American experience not represented by portraiture. In most every athletic, cultural, and political discipline, there is a figure who has made some contribution to increase the span of that discipline’s endeavors. College basketball is no different. When the National Collegiate Athletic Association puts forth its selection of tournament teams each March, work stops and conversation turns to “bracketology,” or—as some would say—the science of picking the final four teams out of the field of sixty-eight, and ultimately, picking the national champion.

The National Portrait Gallery has its own Final Four tribute in the form of four portraits of individuals who made significant contributions to college basketball: John Wooden, coach, UCLA; Michael Jordan, guard, North Carolina; Earvin “Magic” Johnson, point guard, Michigan State; Larry Bird, forward, Indiana State.

John Wooden coached the UCLA men’s team from 1948 to 1975, winning ten NCAA championships during his last twelve years. In that same period, Wooden’s teams had an eighty-eight-game winning streak over three-plus seasons, and he coached twelve All-Americans, including Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Gail Goodrich, and Bill Walton. Beginning in 1976, the year after Wooden retired from UCLA, the collegiate basketball player of the year has been honored by receiving the John R. Wooden Award.

Although Michael Jordan is best remembered for his professional years with the Chicago Bulls, his college days at the University of North Carolina marked the beginning of his spectacular career. Jordan made the winning basket against Georgetown to help the Tar Heels win the 1982 NCAA championship. However, that moment was overshadowed by one of the more bizarre endings to a championship; a few seconds after Jordan’s jump shot, Fred Brown of Georgetown was holding the ball with a chance to win the game when Brown threw the ball to James Worthy—North Carolina’s forward. Jordan’s three years at North Carolina served as his apprenticeship to one of professional basketball’s greatest careers, if not the very greatest. Jordan never forgot his days as a Tar Heel, noting in his NBA Hall of Fame induction speech, “I’m a true blue Carolina guy to the heart.”

At Michigan State University, Magic Johnson played both point guard and forward. Johnson averaged seventeen points, eight rebounds, and eight assists a game during his two years playing for the Spartans. His charisma, versatility, and passion for the game were obvious. Johnson put a limping Spartan squad on his shoulders and carried them for two seasons, eventually taking them to the national championship game in 1979, where they beat Indiana State.

The same Indiana State Sycamores who lost that 1979 championship to Michigan State had some magic of their own—starting forward Larry Bird. Bird, like Johnson and Jordan, would eventually become the face of an NBA franchise; he would land in Boston and play for the Celtics, while Johnson would play for the Los Angeles Lakers, and Jordan would spend most of his playing days with the Chicago Bulls. Larry Bird’s college experience had a choppy start, as Bird left his first school of choice, the University of Indiana, before his freshman season began. After sitting out a year, he played three seasons for Indiana State, averaging thirty points and thirteen rebounds a game.